


Bane

by unicornsandbutane



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Anthropomorphic, Knotting, Large Cock, Licking, M/M, Werewolf Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-09-02 11:24:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,642
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8665696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unicornsandbutane/pseuds/unicornsandbutane
Summary: markingatlightspeed Requested some werewolf porn. Whatever outcomes the Sniper was turning over in his mind, it probably wasn’t that Tavish would fix him with a one-eyed stare under arched eyebrows and say, “Mundy. I’m a werewolf.”





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Lightspeed](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lightspeed/gifts).



“It’s gonna be a rough few days,” Tavish commented to nobody, reading a fluff piece in the paper about the full moon being closer than usual over the next two nights, and thus appearing larger. The article explained some of the science behind it, and then went on to list previous dates of close moons, and the effects they had on the tides and coastal cities. Tavish only skimmed that, thinking more about what effects it would have on him.

Already, he had the itch under his skin. Already he could taste the air at the back of his tongue, scent blood and sweat and adrenaline on the wind, even from an empty battlefield, cleaned by whatever mysterious processes governed Respawn so only spent bullet casings and scarred buildings showed the field’s history. He could smell it, though. He could smell it and feel the way those things, blood and earth and the urge to run, burned core-deep within him, some part of him, and it would be several nights of this, with the moon so close, maybe… Would he stay a wolf during the day?

He’d have to run, if so. He’d have to find a way to get off-base, far enough away he wouldn’t attack his team mates. Even his enemies. The wolf would cut through them, cleave their bellies to eat their innards hot and wet, but with Respawn, it wouldn’t kill them. When they revived, they might be wolves, too. Tavish didn’t know. His thousand deaths on the battlefield hadn’t killed the wolf, so he could only think… He’d make them all into monsters. And then where would he be?

Two maybe three days of this, he thought, mouth flooding at the thought of tearing a man’s throat out with his teeth as he stared at the concrete bulwark that made up the BLU base. He’d have to get away.

He had his own silver chain, his own jar of dried wolfsbane. It was nearly enough to keep him lucid when he changed. He was getting low, and he hoped he’d have enough to last the days and nights while this supermoon hung in the sky, huge and portentous. The purple flowers and crackling leaves shifted in a plain mason jar as he estimated how much time they’d buy him. Powdered and ingested, it was more potent. Brewed into a tea it was less so, but he could stretch his supply that way. Decisions, decisions. He had his choices.

What he didn’t have was a way out. His car had been making an odd whistling sound, and he’d gotten under the hood, and that was all it took for Engie to offer to ‘take a look’ at it. Three cracked spark plugs were just the beginning of the problems, and once Engie got his hands on the engine, Tavish doubted he’d even recognize it when the man was finished. He also doubted it would be a good idea to rush the man, or attempt to take a project from him. Tavish didn’t want to be questioned about why he was in a hurry to get his car back, didn’t want Engie, whip-smart and entirely too observant, to start taking an interest in where he went once a month.

So he was stuck. He couldn’t walk it. If he just struck out into the woods and the wolf got free of the silver chain, if the wolfsbane wore off and he broke loose, he’d just sniff out his own human trail and track it back to base. He’d devour his whole team, and pass the curse.

He shuffled off to knock on the Sniper’s door.

The Sniper wouldn’t ask too many questions. He kept to himself, and afforded others the same courtesy. At least, that’s what Tavish hoped.

“Look, Mundy, I was wonderin’ if you’d be keen on givin’ me a lift out, oh, a couple'a miles into that forest, there. Weather’s been good, thought I’d take a few days’ holiday while we’re not workin’, ye ken? I’ll hike back when I’ve had enough of nature’s bounty.”

The Sniper cut his eyes across the landscape, seemed to measure the distance by sight.

“You need tentpole n’ pegs?” he asked, still looking at the trees, standing oddly still as was his way.

“Naw, I’ve got my own gear,” Tavish assured him. The wolf might just shred the Sniper’s tent, or worse, follow its scent to the man himself. “Thanks for the offer, though.”

Slowly, distantly, the Sniper nodded, and then his eyes suddenly snapped, sharp and piercing, to meet Tavish’s one-eyed gaze.

“Moon’s gonna be full,” the Sniper said, and Tavish sucked in a breath. Could the man know? Could he have seen it through his scope and never breathed a word? Then, “You’ll barely need a lantern.”

Tavish sighed. “Yeah,” he replied, trying to smile. “Yes, that’s what I thought. What I was thinkin’, like. Good time for campin’.”

“Sure,” the Sniper replied, looking again at the trees, “if you can get any sleep with that big ol’ moon starin’ at you.”

“Yeah,” Tavish agreed. He didn’t know what else to say.

“Well. Climb aboard,” the Sniper instructed, walking around to the cab of his van. “We’d best get going if you wanna get out there before it’s dark. Be awful cold, you know. Hope you packed your woollens.”

Tavish clicked his tongue as he hoisted himself up into the passenger seat. “You act like y'don’t think I can handle myself out in nature.” Even without the wolf guiding his instincts, he’d spent plenty of time away from the hustle and bustle of city living. But, if his reckoning held true and he remained a wolf for the next few days, he wouldn’t really need a sleeping bag. All he’d need was in his duffel: wolfsbane, silver, a thick cut of raw meat. Well, that and a sturdy tree.

“Blimey, look at that moon,” the Sniper mused quietly, bending slightly in his seat to sight it through his windshield. Tavish began to sweat. Of course the moon would be out before sundown. “It’s like you could reach out and touch it.”

“Here is fine, lad,” Tavish said, his voice thin. The moonlight hadn’t touched his skin yet but he didn’t want to be in an enclosed space with a team mate when it did. “I’ll walk the rest of the way.” He didn’t know how much time he’d have before the change started. He hoped it was enough for him to chain himself down.

“It’s no trouble,” the Sniper replied, navigating a bend in the dirt road. They fell into the shadow of a hill, and Tavish panicked. He didn’t know how long he could stay out of the moonlight before the change began. Soon enough, it would be too late, and the change would happen regardless of where he hid.

“I was thinkin’ I might join you, actually,” the Sniper went on, and Tavish wanted to scream. “Was thinkin’, we might, eh, get to know each other better.” He glanced over at Tavish, and his face said it all. It was shy, and pained, and as heavy with meaning as that terrible moon.

Tavish gasped. “Mundy, stop the van.”

Immediately, the Sniper’s shoulders drew up. “Never mind,” he said. “Forget I said anything. I’ll just… Take you out to where you wanna go, and I’ll be on my way.”

“Mundy. Stop the van.”

The Sniper did, just short of the slope of the hill. Tavish hoped he had enough time, that the shadow would buy him a few minutes. The Sniper turned, slowly, with the face of a man who didn’t know what to expect. Whatever outcomes he was turning over in his mind, it probably wasn’t that Tavish would fix him with a one-eyed stare under arched eyebrows and say, “Mundy. I’m a werewolf.”

The Sniper blinked at him a few times. “You’re having me on,” he said, sounding slightly offended.

“I don’t have time to play around, lad. I need to get to those trees and chain myself up before I change. I need to eat some wolfsbane so I don’t go completely mad. And the moon’s out early, so I don’t know how long I’ve got.”

“You know wolfsbane is poison,” the Sniper mumbled, looking not at all convinced.

“Aye. But it’s better than the alternative.”

He reached into his bag, brought out the small tin containing his doses of powdered wolfsbane. Moving quickly, he took three pinches and swiped it around his gums like moist snuff.

“It’s gonna start soon,” he warned. “I can feel it in my bones. They ache before the shift. It’s… Not a sight for weak stomachs.”

The Sniper floored the gas and the camper shot off down the road, much faster than a vehicle that big and heavy had any right to do. That, too, was likely Engie’s handiwork, Tavish mused, so he had that to look forward to when this was all over.

His teeth began to hurt, and his throat itched. His vision swam at the edges and he started to pant, hauling breaths into his lungs noisily. He could taste everything in the air: pine through the window, the Sniper’s nervous chemical cocktail, the air freshener hanging from the rear-view, old cigarette smoke. They lurched around another curve and he gripped his thighs. His skin was crawling. It was coming on too soon.

Suddenly trees whistled past the window, and Tavish clenched his eye shut. His teeth were growing in his mouth and it hurt, it hurt. His spine shifted, his flesh burned. Too soon.

The Sniper screeched to a stop in a small clearing, ran around the front of the cab to wrench the passenger side door open and haul Tavish out.

“My bag,” Tavish grit out, struggling. “The chain!”

His fingers were lengthening, the skin on his neck stretching tight as his ears shifted, his jaw stretched. He tried to keep it together. Had he taken enough wolfsbane?

He stumbled in the sparse, new grass, and suddenly Mundy was there, holding the chain.

“I’ve got this locked to a big tree right there,” he said, indicating with his chin. “I guess this bit goes ‘round your middle?” He jangled the heavy collar.

“My neck,” Tavish corrected, voice a harsh growl. “Hurry!”

“Ain’t gonna fit, mate,” the Sniper protested, even as he slung the metal over Tavish’s head. “Too big.”

It hung off of him then, but soon, it would be tight around the fur and thick muscle of his neck. The bridge of his nose was stretching, moving, his teeth moving forward with his jaw.

“You look terrible,” the Sniper mumbled. “This is insane.”

“Go, Mundy!” Tavish roared, as his thigh bones stretched. His muscles stretched with them, and he kicked violently, his boots flying off in different directions. “Get out of here!”

“Nahh,” the Sniper replied. Tavish didn’t understand. Why would Mundy stick around? But, he couldn’t think long on that because his fur started coming in and he tore at his clothes, kicking out of his trousers just in time for his tail to stretch out of his spine. He rolled in the dirt, the fur pushing through his flesh, his ribs expanding with a pop, his feet stretching, bending, claws growing from his nail beds. He screamed, startling distant birds, and the scream became an animal howl. When he opened his eye, it was not the eye the Sniper would recognize. It was yellow, and reflected the moon with a bright glow.

“Ah,” the Sniper said, when Tavish lifted himself from the ground, and stood at his full height. He was enormous, and with his tongue lolling out of his muzzle, he looked every inch the monster he was. He sniffed at the Sniper, just out of reach, but didn’t smell the sour stench of fear. With the wolfsbane in his system, he had just enough presence of mind to wonder at that.

“Well, you’re a mighty brute, aren’t you?” the Sniper murmured, and Tavish licked his chops. He couldn’t speak like this, and his vision was oddly distorted, as if he was looking at the world through the bottom of a glass. The Sniper wavered toward him, and Tavish shuddered. There was something odd about this. Any sane person would be terrified of him.

“Shame about all this,” the Sniper went on. “I’d, eh. Wanted to talk to you. Wanted to see if you were bent, like me. You know.” He paused, looked Tavish up and down. “Do you understand me, or am I just talking to a dumb animal?”

Tavish huffed, scratched a hind leg in the dirt.

“Nod if you can understand me,” the Sniper suggested. Tavish nodded, decisively and deliberately. The Sniper scratched his own chin, and Tavish’s ears rotated towards the rasp of stubble. “How likely is it you’ll go mental and try to eat my guts?”

Tavish tilted his large head. How was he meant to answer that?

“Right, yes or no questions, is it? Let’s see. Will you hurt me if I touch you?”

Tavish shook his head. Not for now, not while he still had the wolfsbane to get him through the worst of it. But, he didn’t know how long that would last, with the moon so close.

“Can I, I mean,” his face took on that look again, like he’d had in the van. Uncertain, cautious. Or, he thought it did, with his vision skewed. “Would you like me to touch you?”

There it was. Mundy was putting it all out in the open. Tavish slumped down onto all fours, and nodded.

It started simply enough, rough fingers at the crown of his head, between the points of his ears. They slid down around his neck, scratched through thick fur, under the heavy silver collar. Soon Tavish was leaning into it.

“Hey,” Mundy called softly, “why don’t you roll on your side?”

When Tavish did, Mundy’s fingers scratched his aching ribs, made him stretch and arch. He almost wanted to kick his leg. His tail thumped the ground, and Mundy’s nails scratched his belly, down, up.

“You still with me, mate? It’s still you in there, yeah?”

Tavish nodded easily. He ought to be more concerned about this, perhaps. He ought to be more concerned about how /unconcerned/ Mundy seemed. How could a man confess to /homosexual interest/ in a colleague and then be met with “I’m a werewolf” as an answer, and go on unperturbed? What kind of man /was/ the Sniper?

“You like that?” Mundy asked him, as Tavish instinctively rolled onto his back, allowing those large, callused hands greater access to the barrel of his torso. “Sure would like to get my hands on you like this, when you’re not wearin’ a shag rug.” Then, he laughed. “Not that I’d complain about a shag, otherwise.”

Tavish wanted to laugh at the play on words, but couldn’t like this. His instinct was instead to sit up and lick Mundy’s face, but once he’d done it, he stilled. That was… uncommon, he thought, between coworkers. Mundy’s hands had stopped their petting.

“Was that a yes?” he asked, hands trailing down, into the scoop of Tavish’s lower abdomen. “Nod if you, uh. If you want that.”

Tavish considered. Mundy was a good-looking guy. A little strange (stranger now than he’d thought before), but hard-working. He didn’t know if Mundy meant for them to have a proper /relationship/, like, or if it would be just sex to blow off steam, but he supposed he could ask once he had the ability to.

He nodded.

Mundy grinned broadly. “Aces,” he said quietly. “That’s just aces, mate.”

Then, Mundy began stripping off his shirt and Tavish rolled into a crouch. Surely Mundy didn’t mean /now/, when he was like /this/?

“I’m curious what it’s like, when you’re… Well, I’ll be honest. You’re gigantic, and I’m itchin’ to find out if you’re… proportional.” He nodded towards Tavish’s lower half, and Tavish’s eye widened. “We can do it normal-like, some other time, but, so long as you’re compos mentis, you know, I figure, what’s the harm in trying it when you’re… uh. A werewolf.” He looked Tavish over again. “Well I guess you’re /always/ a werewolf, but you know what I mean. I’ll be right back.”

With his shirt open, he stood and ambled over to his van, flung the door open, and rifled around inside. Tavish’s sensitive ears picked up cloth rustling and drawers being opened and shut.

“Found it,” Mundy said, leaning out of his door. He held a bag of white powder in his hand, which Tavish could smell on the breeze. It smelled… antiseptic, and he tilted his head. “Got this from the Medic. Works better'n Crisco. But I guess he’d know, eh?” Mundy raised his eyebrows as if to impart meaning, and Tavish just sat on his haunches and tilted his head the other way. He didn’t know what Mundy was talking about. “I’ll have this whipped up in a jiffy,” Mundy explained, before disappearing back into his camper.

Tavish heard water running, metal scraping a bowl in rhythmic motions, the tapping of presumably a spoon. When Mundy emerged again, he was shirtless, and holding a small bowl. He hopped down from his home on wheels and crossed the small clearing to where Tavish sat, chained.

“This here is the best slick there is,” Mundy commented, and now that he was close enough, Tavish could see the clear fluid sloshing around in the bowl. Oh.

“You still alright with this?” Mundy asked, and Tavish could smell his arousal, sweat beginning to gather on him. He could see it in the quick way Mundy licked his lips. Tavish felt himself licking his teeth sympathetically. He nodded.

“Good,” Mundy said, setting the bowl on the ground and kicking off his boots. He unbuttoned his trousers and hesitated a moment, looked Tavish in the eye as he pushed them down, let them drop before kicking them away toward his boots. Then, he was bare under the sky, and Tavish looked him over, wished he could say something to tell Mundy how he looked wearing nothing but moonlight. Instead, he uttered a low whine, and let himself rise to full height so he could push his nose into the slope of Mundy’s neck, sniff and maybe lick him there.

“Jayzus!” Mundy exclaimed. “Your nose is cold! You’re not gonna bite me, are you?”

Tavish took a sobering breath. This was dangerous. He’d never done this, as a wolf, and if he scratched or bit Mundy the man would develop the same curse.

“Just be careful,” Mundy said warmly, patting Tavish’s muzzle. Tavish licked him again, collar to ear. Mundy laughed, and pulled him down, so Mundy lay under him on the ground. He brushed some rocks out of the way and settled into the dirt and leaf litter, totally unconcerned. “Here, keep your claws out of the way, and you can keep that up if you want. Ain’t seen your prick yet, so I dunno how many fingers I’m gonna need to get inside myself before I’m ready for ya.”

Tavish heard himself whine again and began licking at Mundy’s chest, the flat of his tongue finding a nipple and lacing at it until Mundy groaned and arched. Tavish could feel Mundy’s arm moving, and when he straightened up to look he saw the man’s fingers, slick with lube from his little bowl, pushing rapidly into his arse. Two of them, opening him, and Mundy’s cock was so hard, laying thick against his belly alongside Mundy’s wiry arm. But he wasn’t paying attention to it. He was grunting and biting his lip, pushing those two fingers into himself, then three, and Tavish panted harder, felt arousal twisting through him.

“Holy Christ!” Mundy exclaimed, looking down. Tavish looked, too. His cock was not quite its usual shape, longer and redder than usual. He’d never gotten erect as a wolf so he wasn’t fully sure what to expect. He looked toward Mundy again, and saw the way the man licked his lips again. “Gonna need at least four fingers for that.” He lubed his hand again, began pushing a fourth finger inside of himself, eyes clenched, body bowed. “Wish you could do this for me. Bet you’d open me up all slow and nice.”

Tavish could only growl and nod. When he was human again he’d do all sorts of things to this body beneath him. He’d run his fingers into the hair that led from the centre of Mundy’s chest down to his cock, he’d suck him slow and sweet, he’d open him up finger by finger and maybe make him come just from that, and then fuck him so slow and hard he’d come a second time. But he couldn’t say any of that. Not yet. Instead he shuffled down and curled his long tongue around Mundy’s cock, slurped messily at it, drooled all over him. Mundy threw back his head on a moan and gripped his own thigh with his other hand.

“Christ, I don’t know whether to be turned on or terrified!” he said, shakily. “Those are /some/ teeth you’ve got, awfully close to a sensitive area.”

Tavish huffed and sat back.

“Aw, c'mon, don’t pout, Tavish. Here. I’m about ready for ya.”

He withdrew his fingers from inside himself, wiped them on a patch of grass, and beckoned Tavish closer. The silver chain jingled as Tavish approached him on all fours, unsure of what Mundy would do next. Mundy grinned at him, dipped his fingers into the bowl, and reached for Tavish’s cock.

Tavish howled. It wasn’t quite like being stroked as a human. Something made it more sensitive–maybe the fact that it was usually hidden in a sheath, when he was shifted. He whined, sharp and clear, and felt Mundy’s other hand stroking his face, his ears.

“There now,” he said gently. “You wanna fuck me?”

Tavish could barely help himself. His knees didn’t want to vent that way and he whined again, desperate. Mundy only chuckled and rolled onto his stomach, braced himself on all fours.

“I suppose this is more appropriate, eh? Being fucked like a she-wolf?”

Tavish couldn’t classify the sound he made at that. A low keening, a needy howl. He caged Mundy’s body with his elongated limbs, and began to nudge in.

Mundy gasped as soon as he was breached, and groaned, low in his throat, getting louder with each successive inch. He spread his thighs, knees digging into the dirt, and took all of it. When it was all in, he heaved a heavy sigh, waited a few beats, and then began pushing back against Tavish’s warm fur.

“Christ,” he rasped. “It’s big. Bigger'n any cock I’ve ever taken before. C'mon, gimme what you got.”

Tavish drew back, pushed back in, and couldn’t stop himself from there. His hips humped hard and fast into the body beneath him, and it was unlike him. He usually liked to take his time, but the wolf didn’t want to, couldn’t stop driving his long cock deep into Mundy’s waiting hole.

Mundy didn’t seem to mind. He clawed the dirt as much as Tavish did, moaning loudly into the still night air. He pushed back hard against Tavish’s hips, cursing blackly.

“Fuck, Tavish,” he growled, “I think you’re gettin’ thicker. What’s that you’re, oh, oh, oh–”

Tavish felt it happening, couldn’t stop it, the knot forming at the base of his cock, locking him inside Mundy, driving him crazy. He wouldn’t be able to give the man his usual long thrusts even if he tried. All he could do was hump rough and frantic into Mundy’s body, the knot filling and stretching Mundy’s hole like nothing else.

“Christ,” Mundy panted. “Fuck. Never thought I could take somethin’ that big. Can’t believe it’s… stretchin’ me out like that.” He fell to his elbows, then slumped, his face pressed into the ground, leaves sticking to his hair. “Wish you /could/ bite me, claw me. Wanna feel everythin’. Christ, you’re so /big/.”

A low growl built in Tavish’s throat. The scent coming off the man beneath him was heady, thick with arousal and sweat. His back bowed towards the ground, his fingers coated in dirt from clawing the earth as he was fucked harder and harder.

“Yeah,” Mundy panted. “You gonna come? You gonna come a lot? Christ you couldn’t even pull out if you wanted to, with that big knot there. You could fuck me forever and I couldn’t stop you.”

Tavish felt it coming. He was getting louder and louder, and so was Mundy. He wanted to tell the man how good it felt inside him, how good he was taking his cock, that big knot, everything, wanted to ask him if he wanted him to come inside wanted to tell him how good he looked, how good he smelled. But he couldn’t do anything but growl louder, enough he could feel it rumbling into Mundy’s body. Mundy trembled and moaned, told him he was close.

“Tavish, darlin’, I hope you’re close, because I’m gonna come right here in the dirt, gonna… Fill me up, Tav. Bet your load’s gonna be–” he strained, pushed back harder, “proportional, too, bet you’re gonna come buckets.”

Tavish’s growl broke off. He pressed Mundy down, and snapped his hips so hard he felt it even through the thick fur. Mundy’s moans petered off as well into a series of helpless grunts, a nasty “unh, unh, mmm, oh!” loosed into the rotting leaves. Then, “Oh, oh, ah, Tavish, /fuck!/” and then /he/ started to howl, reaching under himself with filthy fingers to tease his cock, just enough, and he was coming, his whole body shaking, his release splashing the ground.

He was so tight, and so hot, and he clenched around Tavish’s cock, squeezed his knot, and Tavish came, echoing Mundy’s howl, straining against his chain, scoring the earth with his claws.

Come flooded out of Mundy’s hole, leaked around the knot and down his thighs, and his cock twitched weakly to feel it. It went on and on, and Tavish roared as he fucked his release in and out of Mundy’s body. It spilled out with each thrust, and soon Mundy was practically sobbing, thighs shaking and threatening to give out. Tavish slammed in one final time, and pushed Mundy several inches in the dirt as the last few spurts rushed out of him and streamed into Mundy’s used and dripping hole.

“Christ, Tavish. Oh, you’re still hard, aintcha… Gonna be up in me for a while, eh? Holdin’ all that lovely come inside? Fuckin’ hell.”

He was right. Tavish didn’t know how long it would take for his knot to go down. He hoped not as long as it would take for the wolfsbane to wear off. He gathered Mundy to his chest, rolled onto his back so the slighter body could rest against him until his cock was ready to slip out of him. Mundy seemed ready to doze, even with a fist-sized knot stretching his arse open.

Slowly, Mundy lifted an arm up, reached blindly behind himself, stroked the back of his hand along the side of Tavish’s face.

“How long you gonna be like this? A wolf, I mean.”

Tavish tilted his head.

“Don’t know, huh?”

Tavish whined.

“You gonna need more of that powder? Couple'a pinches?”

Tavish nodded, hoped he’d be able to judge when. Worst case scenario Mundy could chuck the raw meat at him. It had three pinches of the powder on it, and the wolf would surely eat all he could get.

“Gonna be a rough couple'a days,” Mundy said. Tavish nodded again, and let Mundy lay against him, and drift into an exhausted sleep.


End file.
